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COPYRIGHT DEPOSm 



HOOSIER SONG 

AND SENTIMENT 



BY 
WESLEY ORRISON SMITH 




BOSTON 

SHERMAN, FRENCH & COMPANY 

1916 






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Copyright, 1916 
Sherman, Frexch $f Company 

JUN 16 1916 
©CI.A433377 



TO 
MY BELOVED SON AND DAUGHTER 

HURON HERBERT SMITH 

AND 

GERALDINE SMITH SLOAN 



CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Thoughts Following Despondency ... 1 

*Tis June in Indiana S 

Spring 5 

Dreaming 6 

Parody 8 

A Love Song 9 

My Old Dog Jack 10 

To A Little Niece on Her Sixth Birthday 11 

The Army Mule 12 

On the Flyleaf of a Gift Book . . . . 14 

Grandfather 15 

Good-night! No Dreams! . . . . . 17 

The Voyage of Life 18 

Auto Tourists 20 

To My Daughter on Her Eleventh Birth- 
day ... 21 

The Rain upon the Roof 23 

On Seeing a Picture op the Lawrence 

Schoolgirls 26 

The Student Life 28 



PAGE 

My Friend, the Agent 30 

On the Bay of Naples S3 

On Receiving a Card from a Friend . . 34 

Sunday Morning, March 20, 1881 ... 35 

Night at Home 36 

The Two Messages 37 

Good Health 39 

To A Former Pupil 40 

Mr. Ground Hog 42 

A Palace of Home 43 

That Calendar 44 

Old Erin 46 

Amo — Amas — Amat 47 

To A Robin 48 

An Easter Greeting 50 

Be Young in Heart, though Old in Years 52 

An Iconoclastic Mouse 54 

Crucifixion and Resurrection .... 56 

To a New York Lady Guest 59 

To My Friend, Jacob Ellsworth Hinshaw 61 

Lines for the Album of Miss Bonner . . 62 

Rural Sociability 63 

A Picture 66 

Moments 68 

To My Father on His Eightieth Birthday 69 

On Hearing a Sermon 71 



PAGE 

Hope . 72 

Evening 73 

Childhood's Call 74 

Da Vinci and the Picture 75 

The Winter Wind 76 

Childhood's Day 78 

To My Friend, Dr. E. N. Canada ... 80 

When Mary Has a Man 81 

Sambo's Courting 82 

Shall We Trust Him? 83 

Her Parlor Decorations 84 

Sin's Toll 85 

Rural Optimist 87 

Twilight and Dawn 88 

On the Eve op Commencement .... 89 

Class Poem, 1880 90 



THOUGHTS FOLLOWING 
DESPONDENCY 

The night has past, 

The mom has come, 

The busy world begins to hum 

With vigor as of yore. 

All things are new ; 

The sky is fair; 

And fragrance fills the morning air 

About my humble door. 

Well, have they changed, 

Or did I dream 

My houseboat on some turbid stream. 

While songbirds warbled nigh? 

With friendships true 

All things are new. 

The world smiles right at me and you. 

And hope drives back the sigh. 

When vigor calls 

Within the mind. 

And somber thoughts give place to kind. 

Sweet cheer doth beckon on. 

With shout of mirth 

We climb the hill; 

Upon its crest we catch the thrill 

While gazing at the dawn. 

We know full well 

[1] 



Beyond the tide, 

Upon some fairer shore, our Guide 

Will speak us fair; 

And when shall come 

At close of day 

The messenger to show the way. 

He'll surely meet us there. 



[2] 



'TIS JUNE IN INDIANA 

'Tis June in Indiana 

And the sky is wondrous fair; 

The clover's in the blooming 

And its fragrance fills the air 

From dewy mom till closing of the day. 

The bee is sipping nectar 

From the honey-laden flower, 

And bearing it with gladness 

To its queen's enchanted bower 

That nestles in the orchard by the way. 

The roses in my garden 

Wave a greeting to the breeze, 

The bluebird and the robin 

Call a challenge from the trees. 

And all the world is glad for leafy June. 

Across the meadow's bosom, 

Like the ripple on the lake. 

The wind is gently creeping — 

Hardly does the surface shake — 

And night is robed in splendors of the moon. 

The sea may boast her corals. 
Fair Oregon her spruce; 
With these we wage no battle — 
We only call a truce 
For Indiana's clime. 



[3] 



Her golden fields are smiling, 
Her woods are all atune 
And speak in accents tender 
Of the rare, sweet days of June 
Which must be told in rhyme. 



[4] 



SPRING 

Spring is here ; in swelling bud and fragrant 

flower 
It doth itself proclaim ; 

On lake and stream, in air and on the land, 
Its banners are aflame. 

Its life abounds ; and all its laws are manifest 

From every sun-kissed hill; 

Its richness steals upon the soul apace 

And sets the heart athrill. 

The robin doth proclaim; and from its lofty 

perch 
The piping jay. 

Filled with the witchery of the vernal hour. 
Calls to the newborn day. 

My soul is glad ; in swelling notes of praise 
Let now my song arise. 
And voicing with the clear-toned lark, 
Fill all the skies. 



[5] 



DREAMING 

Oh, the mystery of dreaming, 
With its swift allurements gleaming. 
Leading where they will; 
Inspirations round us thronging 
Fill us with a nameless longing, 
Bid our hearts be still. 

Lo ! behold a matchless morning. 
Flaming banners skies adoring. 
Songbirds all atune. 
Here the cattle ; there the w^oodland ; 
Sylvan, silent, restful Dreamland; 
Perfumed winds of June. 

Here the meadow, there the river, 
Ocean's billow, lakelet's quiver. 
Lend their mystic spell; 
Till in fancy we are standing 
Near the pearly river's landing 
Where our loved ones dwell. 

Now 'tis autumn's garnered sheaf; 
Lengthened shadows, rustling leaf. 
Tell of coming chill ; 
And beside the river's brink 
Where the cattle come to drink, 
Stands the lonely mill. 

[6] 



Midnight quiet, country homestead, 
Silence golden, rest with no dread. 
Steal upon the soul; 
And we're sure as time is fleeting. 
There shall be a happy meeting; 
Death is not the goal. 

Often thus our dreams come stealing, 
Other days and scenes revealing 
In a glory rare; 

While above the skies seem bluer 
And the sun of life shines truer — 
All the world is fair. 



[7] 



PARODY 

Oh, were you ne'er a schoolgirl, 
And did you never chew, 
And feel that swelling of the cheek 
Oft felt by others, too? 

Did you ne'er meet far down the street 
With schoolmates not a few. 
And talk of hat and this and that, 
While merrily you'd chew? 

And did you ne'er sit in class 
And idly dream for aye. 
While sunny sky and laughing e^^e 
Bade you march, march away? 

And did you ne'er smile at him 
Who sat across the way. 
And whisper low that none might know 
The words that you would say? 

O precious girl, my head's awhirl 
Within your gracious smile ; 
But speak me fair and I declare 
I'll love you all the while. 

And when at last our school is past 
And lessons laid aside. 
Your hand I'll claim, my lovely dame, 
And with me you'll abide. 
[8] 



A LOVE SONG 

Out of their depths thou'rt calling to me, 
Calling me with thine eyes ; 
Lo! from my heart I answer thee back, 
Glad with a new surprise. 

Forth from thine eyes thy soul doth shine. 
Guileless and pure and free; 
Timidly waits at those portals fair. 
Whispers of love to me. 

Glimpses I catch of a world unknown. 
Blooming with roses fair; 
Lovingly peering within their depths, 
Eyes that are wondrous rare 

Bring me a message on winged glance, 
Tender and strong and true. 
Freighted with incense subtilely rare. 
Borne to my soul from you. 

Out from the skies a newborn hope 
Shines on my pathway clear, 
Melody maketh within my heart. 
Fills all the world with cheer. 



[9] 



MY OLD DOG JACK 

Faithful old Jack 

Was the leader of the pack 

In many a canine fray ; 

But that was long ago, 

For as any one should know — 

Ev'ry dog must have his day. 

Sporty old Jack 
Was a dandy on the track, 
And only had to learn the way ; 
Just to see him chase the bunny 
Was always worth your money, 
But now, alas ! he's had his day. 

Honest old dog. 

He's just within the fog 

Where rosy skies are turned to gray; 

No more the noise of gun 

Will make him leap and run. 

For he, alas ! has had his day. 



[10] 



TO A LITTLE NIECE ON HER SIXTH 
BIRTHDAY 

Birthdays are glad days 
At life's early mom, 
Sunshine and roses 
With never a thorn. 

Childhood and springtime 
Are symbols of joy ; 
Youth-time is hope-time, 
Without an alloy. 



[" 



THE ARMY MULE 

Mephisto was an army mule 
As trifling as they make 'cm ; 
And if you did your back but turn, 
He would your willing kindness spurn 
And kick you, yes, he would, dad burn, 
He, ha, he! 

Mephisto was as wise a guy 

As ever drew a breath; 

And he could kick a pesky fly 

And sugar eat and wink his eye. 

And look so tired you'd think he'd die. 

He, ha, he! 

But do not dream that he is dead, 
That solemn army mule; 
Nor tickle the end anent his head 
Without you're ready to take your bed, 
For that 'er mule is highly bred. 
He, ha, he ! 

Mephisto never sleeps at night. 
That pesky army mule ; 
He chews his hay and dreams of fight. 
His challenge calls with dawning light, 
And whoops it up till 'tis a fright. 
He, ha, he! 

[18] 



I sigh as I think of Mephisto's birth, 

That music-loving mule; 

And long for the time when our mother Earth 

Shall issue the call to loose his girth, 

And give him a new and a warmer berth. 

He, ha, he! 



[13] 



ON THE FLYLEAF OF A GIFT BOOK 

In Friendship's sweet name 
This vokimc I britig; 
May it lift up your courage 
And cause you to sing 

A song of rejoicing, 
Though long be the night 
Ere the morning appear 
With its banners of light. 

'Tis Truth rules the world, 
And her arrows of light 
Shall pierce superstition 
And banish the night. 

For Truth is of God 
And crushed will arise. 
Its banners aflame 
With the hope of the skies. 



[14] 



GRANDFATHER 

The grandfather sat in his ingle nook, 
Where the sunlight softly played; 
His face was wrinkled, his locks were few. 
And his garments were old and frayed. 

His hand was frail and his eye was dim. 
But over his features a smile 
Bespoke of the gentle soul within 
And a heart that was free from guile. 

Without, where the golden sunlight fell 
And the rustle of leaf was heard. 
There drifted in through the open door 
The voices of child and bird. 

He listened again and a voice rang clear — 

'Twas the voice of his own dear Jane; 

And he wondered, as backward he turned his 

glance. 
If he'd see her dear face in the lane. 

For his dear, dear Jane was the same little 
girl 

Who lisped her sweet prayer at his knee. 

And romped through the orchard and meadow- 
land. 

And shouted her childish glee 

[15] 



At the babbling brook as she held his hand 
And sought for his loving embrace, 
Which she knew would sure come 
When she held him close and smilingly sought 
his face. 

The years had sped by, and instead of the gold, 

The silver had come to stay ; 

But Jane was a child for all of that. 

As he dreamed of her childish way. 

He saw the bare feet and heard the glad cry 
As she sped over valley and hill, 
Or chased the fair thing as it flitted by. 
Or roamed at her own sweet will. 



[16] 



GOOD-NIGHT! NO DREAMS! 

Gently the daylight has faded, 
Darkness broods over the stream; 
Now may your couch be attended 
By slumber, but never a dream. 

Sleep, sweetly sleep, till the morrow 
Sheds on thy pillow its gleam; 
Wake with a song and with gladness, 
But slumber with never a dream. 

Forth from the sky to your chamber 
The moon sends her silvery beam. 
You reck not her charm nor her beauty; 
You sleep — but with never a dream. 

Life in its wide-awake moments 
May puzzle with many a theme; 
But slumber should never be broken — 
Just sleep, but with never a dream. 



[17] 



THE VOYAGE OF LIFE 

Leaning my head 'gainst the timcwom bark 
Of a giant old oak tree, 
Before me I saw through the balmy air 
The voyage upon Life's sea. 

And I stood there dreaming about the voyage 
While leaves fell thick around, 
And saw, as they fell, in each lone descent. 
Some Life's ship run aground. 

Upon the ship there were gay young men 

Whose outlook seemed clear and bright ; 

But a demon had come and the young life 

crushed 
When they strayed from the pathway of light. 

There were winsome maids with tresses fair. 
And the ring of their laughter was heard 
Like the gladsome note that will outward float 
From the song of some happy bird. 

On the after deck, when the sun was low, 
A group of mourners was seen ; 
On the saddened face of each one was traced 
The marks of a sorrow keen. 



[18] 



The end of the voyage at length drew nigh, 
For the harbor was just at hand. 
And the voyagers all heard the final call 
At the gates of the Promised Land. 



[19] 



AUTO TOURISTS 

Ere the morning blushes red 
We are speeding on our way, 
With many leagues behind us 
At the turning of the day. 
Then our chauffeurs turn a trick, 
Laying low poor " domemic," 
And we all have good old chick: 
Think of that ! 

We are speeding up the mountain, 
We are coasting down the hill, 
We are rushing through the valley 
By the worn-out watermill. 
With our chauffeurs at the wheels. 
Baby calves are changed to veals 
And are eaten at our meals: 
Think of that ! 

At last the day has faded 
And we're parking by the way, 
A jolly group of campers 
Waiting gladly for " the hay." 
Then our chauffeurs take a hike 
To the orchard down the pike, 
And they furnish what we like: 
Think of that ! 



[20] 



TO MY DAUGHTER ON HER ELEVENTH 
BIRTHDAY 

Did will-o'-the-wisps in fairyland dwell 
In the time of the long-ago, 
When you were a child and I was a child, 
And life was all aglow? 

Were the flicker and flare and the golden glare 

Of the jack-o'-lantern known 

In the years gone by, when you and I 

Only wee tots were grown? 

Did a big bear crouch at the garden gate 
And growl through the gloom of night, 
When you were a bairn and I was a bairn, 
To chill our hearts with fright? 

Was the echo that came from yonder wood 
In the days of the long-ago 
The wail of a fairy lost and weary, 
Wandering to and fro? 

In the hush of the night when the stars were 

bright. 
In the long-ago days of youth. 
Did the darkness bring on her sable wing 
Visions anew of truth? 



[21] 



Eleven tonight ! did I hear it aright, 

Or was it an idle dream? 

Are we bound for the ocean's wide expanse, 

Our boat on a winding stream? 

Or may we not halt 'neath the blue-arched vault 
Of a fair October's sky 
And wait as of yore on the nearby shore, 
While Time lies idly by? 

Ah ! no, my child, it may not be so ; 

Time beckons and follow we on 

Through sunshine and shadow, through tempest 

and storm. 
To the land of Eternal Dawn. 



[22] 



THE RAIN UPON THE ROOF 

Oh, the music of the rain upon the roof! 
How it brings again the mem'ries of my youth; 
They come flooding through my brain 
With the patter of the rain, 
With the playing of the rain upon the roof. 

Oh, the rolling and the rumbling of the thunder ! 
How it filled my childish mind with awe and 

wonder. 
When it shook my little bed, 
Filled was I with nameless dread 
At the mighty roar and rumble of the thunder. 

Oh, the deep, majestic music of the thunder! 

How it seemed to thrust the very clouds asunder ; 

Seemed to mock old ocean's roar 

As it sweeps from shore to shore. 

In its restless mood of never ending wonder. 

Oh, the playing of the lightning on the night! 
How it brings again those floods of brilliant 

light. 
Turning darkness into day 
For a moment, then away. 
Leaving blackness and the pressing sense of 

fright. 



[23] 



Oh, that chamber in the garret overhead ! 

How against its roof was placed my little bed, 

Where the falling of the rain 

Sang a lullaby refrain 

Till my daydreams in forgctfulncss had fled. 

Oh, the mem'ry of the brother now at rest 1 
How together little faces we have pressed 
In the pillow white and soft, 
In that dear old cabin loft. 
Shall we meet, I wonder, in that home so 
blessed? 

Oh, the echo of a footfall on the stair! 

And the music of a sweet voice low and clear, 

Bidding childish hearts be still. 

Sure could come to us no ill 

With the loving heart of Mother pressing near. 

Now the storm might rage without, 

All the thunder clap and shout. 

And the lightning play in splendor round our 

bed; 
But our hearts could know no fear 
With that dear face bending near; 
With her presence every bugaboo had fled. 

When the storms of life rage sore, 
And the clash and mighty roar 
Of the conflict seem to flood my very brain, 

[24] 



Then I shrink sometimes in fear 

And I long again to hear 

That dear voice amidst the battling of the rain. 



[25] 



ON SEEING A PICTURE OF THE 
LAWRENCE SCHOOLGIRLS 

Under a spreading maple tree 

The Lawerence schoolgirls posed; 

The tall and the short, the slim, the stout, 

The fair and the stubby nosed. 

And with that group posed memory 
Of the years along gone by. 
When they indeed were schoolgirls 
With bright and laughing eye. 

Old-time games to mind were called 
And tales of love's young dream. 
With virtues of their teacher dear. 
Whose boat has crossed the stream 

And anchors now close by the shore 
Beyond the " swelling tide," 
And there awaits the schoolgirls 
Now scattered far and wide. 

Little women, then, were they, 
These matrons of today; 
Sober thoughts were not unmixed 
With frivolous and gay. 

Jokes with laughter went the round. 
And each one took her share; 

[26] 



For matron-girls, like schoolgirls, 
Will never take a dare. 

Toasts were given, songs were sung. 
And feasting, too, was had ; 
And many other things were done 
To make the hearts grow glad. 

Loved ones in that picture 
Have crossed the golden stream 
That separates the here and there 
As wakeful thoughts the dream. 

You miss them when you gather 
Around your festal board; 
They've gone to join their teacher 
And meet their risen Lord. 

And when the years have faded 
And time shall be no more, 
I want that you shall meet them 
Upon that golden shore. 



[27] 



THE STUDENT LIFE 

Oh, the student life is the life for me ! 
With its wholesome fun and its spirit free. 
Like the blush of the mom or touch of the air 
Is the beckoning hope that calls to me fair. 

Begone, dull Care ! We have naught for thee ; 
From thy visage grim is no need to flee; 
We're a band of sprites and the song we sing 
Shall swell with the joy of the budding spring. 

Speed away ! speed away ! We will none of thee, 
For the life we live shall be full and free; 
As free as the eagle's wing in its flight 
When its eye is fixed on the distant height. 

The world may frown and the winds may blow, 
And the tides of the ocean may ebb and flow ; 
We reck not of time and we fear not of woe. 
For our hearts are light as we onward go. 

We will sing ! we will sing ! O Knowledge dear, 
As we sit at thy feet in the dawning clear, 
And weave for thee garlands of rarest tints 
Where the sunlight fair on the river glints. 

From the distant hills in a soft refrain 
The gist of our song shall return again ; 
So out of thy fount shall the Future drink 

[28] 



As it kneels at thy feet by the river's brink, 

And lives anew some old, old dream 

As it searches for thee in the shining stream. 



[29] 



MY FRIEND, THE AGENT 

" There's an agent, is it not, 
Maggie dear, Maggie dear? 
And he comes across the, lot, 
Maggie dear; 
To the burden of his song 
We shall have to listen long, 
For he seemeth good and strong, 
Maggie dear. 

" You will stay outside the gate. 
Friend of mine, friend of mine; 
I would have you stand and wait, 
Friend of mine; 
I've no time to see your book, 
And no love for Doctor Cook, 
And not even will I look, 
Friend of mine. 

" But you tell me you're a Smith ; 

Is it true, is it true.? 

That you're of my kin and kith; 

Is it true.'^ 

That your people owned no peerage. 

That they traveled a la steerage. 

That they pawned their duds for clearage ; 

Is it true.? 

" That you come from dear old Erin — 
What is that, what is that.? 

[30] 



Have I lost my natural hearin'? 
What is that? 

You're a son of our green isle? 
And you've come full many a mile, 
But you're stopping here a while? 
What is that? 

" Why, of course I'll buy your book ; 

That's a go, that's a go. 

And I'll have a quiet look, 

That's a go. 

Here's some ' bacca ' and a pipe. 

For the time is fully ripe. 

And the fleeting hours we'll swipe ; 

That's a go. 

" While the smoke shall upward swing 
Do you hear, do you hear — 
We will dance the Highland fling ; 
Do you hear? 

We shall talk of this and that. 
Of Mike Dooley, and poor Pat 
Who was drowned just like a rat; 
Do you hear? 

" When the happy hours have fled, 
Bonnie lad, bonnie lad. 
And the morning flames with red, 
Bonnie lad, 

[31] 



We will have an ' Irish stew — ' 
Just prepared for me and you, 
An' ye know what we shall do, 
Bonnie lad." 



[32] 



ON THE BAY OF NAPLES 

We drift on the bay of Naples 
And the world swings idly by ; 
We dream of the land of childhood 
With its smiles and its sunny sky. 

And voices to us are calling 
From the home beyond the sea, 
As soft as the strains of music 
That upward floats to me. 

The breezes are softly sighing 
And the shadows come and go; 
With laughter and song we journey. 
And the skies are bending low. 

Beneath us the rippling waters, 
All glorious in shade and sheen; 
Beyond us the sunlit mountain 
In its robes of living green. 

Far off from the isle of somewhere 
Come the bantering notes of a bird, 
And memory comes with the singing. 
Far sweeter than ever was heard. 

No longer the bay's fair bosom 
Enchants with its silvery sheen; 
" Sweet home " looms up before us 
In fancy's golden dream. 
[33] 



ON RECEIVING A CARD FROM A FRIEND 

I CAUGHT the thought intended 
In the card you mailed to me, 
But ^fess that on the wislies 
I am wholly " out at sea." 

Were they tiny little wishes 
From the fairies in the wood, 
Bearing hope for my improvement 
And a prayer that I be good, 

Or just the " season's greetings " 
To the " Man beside the road," 
To cheer him on his journey 
And lighten up his load? 

Your answer I am waiting 
Where sunbeams idly play; 
I'm hoping you will answer 
Ere shall pass another day. 



[34] 



SUNDAY MORNING, MARCH 20, 1881 

Mantled in snow, the world below 
Looks cold and drear; 
And upward we seek, with spirit meek, 
For help and cheer. 

Out of the sky with laughing eye 

King Sol looks down, 

And smiles in peace at the whitened fleece 

Of the gray old town. 

But his smile is gone like the careless song 
Of a gay young cavalier. 
And the joy it brought was hardly wrought 
Till it vanished with a tear. 

But we should be glad and never sad. 
As changes are ushered in. 
That the sunshine we know, wherever we go, 
Bides our own hearts within. 



[35] 



NIGHT AT HOME 

My " blinds " are drawn 

And I'm alone 

Save for my old clock's monotone, 

Which ticks away in drowsy glee 

And bids the rapid moments flee, 

From Hinterland to distant thee. 

Without, the winds may rift and roar 

And rattle at my parlor door, 

But touch me not at all; 

For in this nook but good cheer dwells. 

Fond fairies work their mystic spells, 

And Ease and Comfort call. 

Wouldst thou with me its pleasures share 

And visions see of treasures rare? 

Then wave thy magic wand; 

Upon the air and over sea 

The rarest thoughts float out to me, 

And I shall understand. 

For distance may not limit thought, 
And time and space be set at naught 
Within the mind's sweet way; 
So shall we gather daisies fair. 
And twine them in thy glossy hair 
With song and laughter gay. 

[36] 



THE TWO MESSAGES 

Out of the South a harsh note came 
Sounding, sounding, sounding; 
Calling out here and there a blame, 
Bringing to cheek a blush of shame. 
And into the blood a leap of flame 
Pounding, pounding, pounding. 

Up from the South one winter's day, 
Lightly, lightly, lightly. 
Floated a message of love and cheer 
Bearing the burden of all the year. 
Brushing aside the doubt and the fear 
Brightly, brightly, brightly. 

Which is the message that thou wouldst choose, 

Truly, truly, truly? 

The one that should make the spirit sad. 

Or banish the thoughts of the evil and bad 

And fill you with those of the good and the 

glad ? 
Ponder it duly, duly. 

Life is too short to imagine ills. 
Deary, deary, deary; 
Burdens there are both real and true, 
Tasks that are standing for us to do, 
Something that calls unto me and to you, 
Cheery, cheery, cheery. 

[37] 



Shall we not, then, the better forgive 
Quickly, quickly, quickly? 
Casting the stinging retort away, 
Looking for kind things we may say, 
Wishing the good with each newborn day, 
Gleichlich, gleichlich, gleichlich? 



[38] 



GOOD HEALTH 

The fairest, the sweetest, the dearest boon 

That our pilgrimage earthly may know. 

That can give us a smile and a word worth 

while 
To the fellow that with us would go. 
That will hearten all life, give our thanks to 

the wife 
For her courage and help in the fight. 
And make life seem sweet to the one we may 

meet 
Who is striving to win for the right, is — 

Good health. 

Oh, treasure it, care for it, prize it as gold, 
Gamer it gladly as you're growing old. 
Help those about you its blessings to reap, 
Let not your powers for giving it sleep ; 
Then from the star- jeweled regions above. 
Where fairest angels chant stories of love. 
Shall descend on you in measure supreme 
Blessings far richer than all you could dream. 
Then from among them in choosing be bold ; 
Take you this boon that is better than gold — 

Good health. 



[39] 



TO A FORxMER PUPIL 

Your wishes, pupil dear, 

This time were very clear, 

And I'll treasure them each one with loving 

care; 
Though I live to be fourscore, 
I'll forget them nevermore, 
And will keep them with my treasures rich and 

rare. 

In that little " cedar chest," 

With the keepsakes of the blest. 

Where mem'ries bright are hidden from the 

view, 
I shall safely tuck away 
All the nice things you may say, 
And often they shall make me think of you. 

Then some misty, moisty day 

When my mind is far away 

And memory shall haunt the backward track, 

I shall hale them into sight 

And shall laugh with my delight 

As the fragrance of their incense cometh back. 

Then it's dreaming I shall be, 
And I'll close my eyes and see 
Many faces of the happy long-ago ; 

[40] 



'Haps I'll waken with a start 

And a pain about my heart, 

'Cause so many of the dear ones had to go. 

But " He doeth all things well," 

Is the story I would tell 

To the weak and weary-hearted by the way ; 

In some sweeter, fairer clime 

We shall voice the theme divine 

Of redemption and of life's eternal day. 



[41] 



MR. GROUND HOG 

Howdy ! Mister Ground Hog, 
How do you do? 
Been a mighty long time 
Since I last saw you. 

Springtime has faded, 
Summer come and gone. 
Tell me. Mister Ground Hog, 
Why away so long? 

Autumn with its sunshine. 
Winter with its cold ; 
Surely, Mister Ground Hog, 
You are growing old. 

Any little " hoggies " 
Hiding in your nest. 
Snugly tucked away 
'Cause you love 'em best? 

Ah ! you saucy ground hog. 
Sly old fox are you. 
Posing as a weather-man: 
Tell us what's to do. 



[42] 



A PALACE OF HOME 

There's a " mystical palace of home " 
Which beckons wherever we stray — 
By valley or lake, through deep-tangled brake, 
O'er ocean or starlighted bay. 

Ere Day sends his shafts through the dawn 
And pierces its shadows with light ; 
When the spell of the hour is present in power 
And the day god stands forth on the night; 

When Mom lifts her head in the east 
And mountain peaks glow with her light ; 
When breezes are blowing and cattle are lowing 
And swallows are seen in their flight ; 

When mists from the valley are drifting 

And landscapes appear to the view; 

Where waters are falling and songbirds are 

calling 
And glad hearts are beating for you — 

Oh, then, and oh, there, that dear home 

Doth lure us by night and by day, 

Till hearts are aflame when we breathe the sweet 

name 
As we travel life's turbulent way. 



[43] 



on, 



THAT CALENDAR 

'Tis not because 'tis winter 
Nor mantled the earth with snow ; 
'Tis not because the trees are bare 
That in the picture show ; 

It is because, O sly one, 
A face looks out to see, 
And puts the simple questio 
" Were you expecting me? " 

Was I expecting thee, dear girl. 

To call a challenge fair, 

While from those saucy eyes there spoke, 

" I'll never take a dare " ? 

As well expect the fleecy clouds 
That marshal overhead 
To whisper to the maple tree 
The thoughts you've never said. 

As well expect a bashful swain 
To say, " You're looking sweet " ; 
Or bid a staid old fellow ask 
To kneel there at your feet — 

To kneel there in "The Beautiful," 
And freeze his pesky feet 
While gazing at the maple near 
And trying to say, " You're sweet." 

[44] 



All this is in the calendar 

That on my table lies 

And beckons cross the picket fence 

With glad and laughing eyes. 



[45] 



OLD ERIN 

Your hills are the rarest, 
Your women the fairest, 
Your men are the squarest 
The sky e'er hung o'er; 
Blest, blest Tipperary, 
The home of my Mary, 
My own little fairy 
Who stands at her door. 

Her eyes are the bluest. 
Her heart is the truest. 
Her faults are the fewest 
Of ladies galore; 
I'm pining to hold her. 
Completely enfold her. 
Her head on my shoulder. 
In front of her door. 

For her I'll be dying, 
(At least I'll be trying) 
Yea, even be flying 
O'er hill and wild moor ; 
I'll meet in her garden 
The dear Dolly Varden, 
If none shall be guardin' 
Her own cabin door. 



[46] 



AMO — AM AS — AM AT 

Out of your beckoning eyes of blue, 
Fairer than sunlit skies, 
Springs a greeting that calls me to you 
Straight as the arrow flies. 

Sound of your voice I may not hear. 
Girl of the winsome eye. 
Nevertheless the call is clear, 
Like as the dove's low cry. 

Forth from your eyes steals fair young love, 
Gentle as zephyr of spring. 
Calling as sweet as the mating dove, 
Bidding my own heart sing. 

This is the message that comes to me; 
Swift will I heed its call. 
Standing under the chestnut tree 
Close by your garden wall: 

" Down where the clear spring bubbles up 

Meet me at eventide. 

Fill to the brim my loving cup 

Out of your own heart's tide." 



[47] 



TO A ROBIN 

I HEARD you singing ^^our mating song, 
Into the evening sky, 
Perched aloft on the topmost bough, 
Over the earth so high. 

Whence your joy, O bonny bird, 
Caroling forth so free? 
All of the world is glad for you, 
Won by your happy glee. 

Over your crest a lingering ray 
Gives you a crown of light, 
Kisses the earth in its onward march 
Into the fold of night. 

Over the earth the shadows creep. 
Silent and dark and long. 
Shutting away the daylight fair, 
Hushing your mating song. 

Happy bird of the springtime fair, 
Tell us your secret true ; 
Know you aught of the Father's care 
Out of the sky's deep blue? 

Have you a thought that He cares for you 
Ever the live-long day, 
Counting your joys on His rosary 
Over the Milky Way, 

[48] 



Watching your flight in the newborn day, 
Minding with jealous care, 
Pausing not in His love for you, 
Guarding from every snare? 

If unto you such love is given 

Out of the Father's care, 

Why should not we, His children true. 

Come to Him everywhere? 



[49] 



AN EASTER GREETING 

Old college chum, the time is here ; 
The Eastertide is drawing near; 
And I shall try to make it clear 
How many eggs I've hid. 

Your question is a timely one, 
And breathes of golden days we've done - 
Of merry quips and sport and fun 
And college stunts we did. 

As many eggs I've hid away 

As bottles had we on that day — 

Save only one; 

Across our lawn the sunshine lay, 

And we were full of life and gay — 

Our work undone. 

But now the silv'ry hair has come; 
Our thoughts go back ; we idly drum, 
And dream the while; 
Our journey oft was rough and steep, 
The pathway sometimes hard to keep 
On many a mile. 

But you are now a doctor great, 
With patients oft that idly wait 
To take their turn ; 

[50] 



Of Blackstone I was somewhat fond- 
Of hunting, fishing in the pond, 
With idle time to bum. 

Beyond the tide that sets at last 
May loyal Friendship hold us fast 
In her embrace ; 

Oh, then we'll sing the songs we knew 
And talk of loved ones tried and true, 
By His good grace. 



[61] 



BE YOUNG IN HEART, THOUGH OLD 
IN YEARS 

Have you fallen away from that gladsome day 

When life was in its spring? 

Do 3'our thoughts grow sear with the passing 

year ? 
Does your heart no longer sing? 

Do the moon's fair beams multiply your dreams 
When the soul drinks in the night? 
Does the starlit sky from its archway high 
Bring a vision anew of right? 

Does the whispering breeze in the maple trees 

Steal from your shoulders the years? 

Does it bring you the joy of the barefooted 

boy 
With a heart that is free from fears? 

If you dwell no more by the flower-lined shore 
Of childhood's laughing stream, 
And feel not the joy of a glad-hearted boy, 
Or the charm of his simple dream — 

You've missed the good part of the simple heart 
That seeks not for gold but for men ; 
Your vision is bound to the lowly ground 
In the now and the coming then, 

[62] 



The hills may be bright with the autumn's light, 
The valleys with flowers abloom; 
They reveal not the story of nature's rich glory 
To him who is 'mersed in gloom. 



[53] 



AN ICONOCLASTIC MOUSE 

A TEENSEY, weensey mouse 

Slyly crept within my house 

Where I dwelt by the king's broad way. 

For the color did you call? 

I remember not at all, 

But it must have been a plain mouse-gray. 

It found reposing there 

Many trophies rich and rare 

Slowly gathered from the king's domain ; 

These it calmly rent and tore, 

Idly cast upon the floor. 

Heeding not at all my bitter cry of pain. 

Here it took a lily fair 
That had twined within the hair 
Of a friend, both true and faithful all the years ; 
And it tore it, bit by bit. 
Leaving not a single whit. 

And I stood there only laughing through my 
tears. 

Next my rosary it took. 
Sought my cozy ingle nook, 
And every bead it counted one by one ; 
Then it snapped the silken cord 
That sustained my precious hoard 
And slyly laughed when all its work was done. 

[54] 



E'en a little chamber fair 

That I called my " place of prayer," 

Where countless inspirations had been given, 

Was most calmly overturned 

And its contents gently spumed, 

And all its hallowed mem'ries forth were driven. 

you naughty, naughty mouse! 
To thus invade my house 

And havoc play with what you there did find ; 
Yet, mousie dear, you see 

1 can never bid you flee, 

For all the while I know that love is blind. 



[55] 



CRUCIFIXION AND RESURRECTION 

The silence of night lay upon Olivet. The rays of 
a silver moon shot athwart her rugged brow. The 
shadows of the gnarled and ancient olives spread like 
a dark patchwork upon her , quiet valleys. No note 
of bird or stir of leaf broke the stillness. Down yon- 
der where the hem of the valley dips to the brook 
Kedron, twelve men appear, moving with quiet, stately 
step. Now their cowls show forth dark and mysterious 
in the subdued light of the valley, and again are lost 
in the shadows. The awful crisis of the mightiest 
moral battle in all the annals of time was about to 
occur. Both heaven and earth were vitally interested 
in the issue of that test. The Son of Man, conscious 
of the nature of that test as no other ever has been 
of impending agony, cried unto the Father, " If it be 
possible, let this cup pass from me"; but the Savior 
of the world, the only Begotten of the Father, in a 
spirit of filial obedience which has challenged the ad- 
miration of all chivalrous souls from that time to this, 
added, " nevertheless not as I will, but as Thou wilt." 
And because the whole earth needed lifting up, the 
sacrificial compact was sealed in the blood of the Son. 

Bereft of hope, with burdened hearts 

and downcast eyes 
His followers drew away. 
From out their lives, in torture and humility, 

had passed their friend 
On that momentous day. 

Despair upon each saddened face, 

once radiant with hope, 
Had cast her mantle grim, 

[56] 



In all the awful wreck and ruin 

of that mysterious hour 
They read no trace of him. 

And Nature, too, in stately confirmation 
made manifest her concord 

That sad and fateful hour. 

In clefted rock, in quiv'ring earth, 
in sundered temple veil. 

She shadowed forth her power. 

But now a change behold ! 
The Lord of life has risen 
Triumphant over death. 
It is the happy Easter morn, 
And anxious ones are waiting 
With tense and bated breath. 

No longer dwells He in that tomb, 
Bleak emblem of mortality, 
But swift as light has risen. 
On mountain top, in lowly vale, 
Wherever dwell the sons of men, 
A boundless hope is given. 

To those who wear the fetters forged 
by dark and dread despair, 

He comes as comes the light. 

Like mists of morn that disappear 
before the king of day, 

So scatters He their night. 

[57] 



To luiniblc souls witli vision bound 
He comes witli power divine, 

And satisfies their longing. 

Like flocks of birds at eventide 

that gather in some, forest fair, 

New views of life come thronging. 

From out the impulse born of hope, 

clear streams of love 
Have channeled deep in human life. 
Upon their banks have blossomed forth 

peace, charity, and gentleness, 
In place of hatred, discord, strife. 

And as the Master while on earth 
ne'er weary grew in doing good 

Where need most pressing seemed. 

So now the new and better race of men, 
in forest, busy mart, and field. 

Dares do the things He did and dreamed. 



[58] 



TO A NEW YORK LADY GUEST 

State of the dual emblem, 

Fair empire of the East, 

Thy sons and daughters honor thee 

In warfare and in peace. 

The maple green upon thy crest 
Gives shelter to the rose; 
Thy name is known from zone to zone 
Wherever commerce goes. 

Thy vine-clad hills seem fairer, 
Thy valleys richer are 
Than far-famed vales of Cashmere 
Or Afric's golden bar. 

And gleaming in the sunlight 
Thy purple hills among, 
Thy limpid lakes are fairest 
Of all by poets sung. 

The Nile is old in story ; 
Midst castles flows the Rhine; 
But thou alone, old Hudson, 
Of rivers art divine. 

Thy noble Adirondacks 
Thy poet proudly sings 
Where'er the sun in glory 
His crimson banner flings. 
[59] 



Thou daughter of an empire, 
Fair region of the blest, 
Accept from us this greeting 
As Hoosiers of the West. 



[60] 



TO MY FRIEND, JACOB ELLSWORTH 
HINSHAW 

Forty-nine, did you say? Fling the record 

away. 
For I'm sure that it does not speak true ; 
Only moments do count in the soul's upward 

mount 
To the heights of the sky's deep blue. 

Life's measured by deeds, to the fearless who 

leads 
In the battle that's waged for the right ; 
He dwells in the dust whose keen blade suffers 

rust 
When humanity calls to the fight. 

Alone ? Yes and no ; when faced by the foe. 
Thousands seven have never yet kneeled ; 
Brave Gideon's band is ever at hand 
When a hero shall take to the field. 

" Be of good cheer," is the message we hear 
From the lips that speak infinite love; 
" My help shall not fail when thy foes most as- 
sail," 
Is the word of thy Father above. 



[61] 



LINES FOR THE ALBUM OF MISS 
. BONNER 

While yet the year was in its lusty youth 
And even' bud with golden promise fraught, 
When still the air was filled with sweets 
From gardens, fields, and tangled w^ildwood 
brought, 

This volume, filled with many a friendly token 
In words of love and truth most fitly spoken. 
Came round that I a place therein might find 
And thus a corner have within your friendly 
mind. 

• •••••• 

Promise gives place to the ripe fruit of Autumn ; 
The ho'pe of the seedtimes, the harvest makes 

sure ; 
'Tis the thought of fulfillment that beckons us 

onward ; 
The diamond, though hidden, yet acts as a lure. 

My promise went forth in the springtime; 
With the Summer it strengthened and grew ; 
And now, as the autumn shades lengthen, 
By the great law of Nature 'tis due. 



[62] 



RURAL SOCIABILITY 

"How's your little chickens, 'Liza.? Mine's a 

doin' fine; 
Got a hundred fifty odd — ye oughter see 'em 

shine. 
Old-fashioned Domemickers is good enough fer 

me; 
No highferlutin' chickens is a roostin' on our 

tree. 

" Just common, everyday, good old-fashioned 

chicks — 
Nothin' more ner less, I say, than plain old 

Domemicks ; 
Kind that talks o' mornin's, about the peek o' 

day, 
An' tells you purty plain, I guess, 'at he is here 

to stay. 

" Find 'em roamin' fur an' wide, a-pickin' up the 

bugs; 
They're not the kind you keep alive by wrappin' 

them in rugs. 
No, sireel They're up and off as soon as it is 

light. 
Always ready fer a bug er spilin' fer a fight. 

" Sassy ? Well, I reckon so ; you oughter see 
'em talk; 

[63] 



'Gin to notice what's a doln' as soon as they kin 

walk. 
Sometimes if there is danger a-lurkin' in the air, 
They'll call the whole caboodle and form a hol- 
low square. 

" Just like soldiers on the field afore they have 

to fight — 
A-marchin' here and yonder and a-callin' left 

and right. 
The rooster is the major, and he calls the orders 

straight ; 
There's no such thing in his command as ever 

bein' late. 

" Fer if you're late, he calls you an' you sneak 

away an' hide 
An' take your chance with danger er whatever 

may betide, 
An' the only consolation 'ats offered to you then. 
Is never, never, never to do the like again. 

" Fer if you're late a second time, he reads the 

riot call. 
An' then you're left to cackle beyond the garden 

wall — 
Out where the hawks kin git you, er the weasel 

er the mink. 
An' send you into kingdom come afore your 

eye kin wink. 

[64] 



" Oh, the dear old Dominicker is the bird that 

takes my eye, 
Fer if the flood should come again, you'd find 

him roostin' high. 
He'd beat the waters to it jest as sure as you 

are bom, 
An' be right there when momin' came the other 

chicks to warn." 



[65] 



A PICTURE 

On the wall of my lady's chamber, 
In her villa by the sea, 
You may look upon a picture 
That has long enchanted me. 

'Tis a story of life's struggles, 
Of a courage brave and strong 
That has battled for the victory 
In the strife 'twixt right and wrong. 

Musing now upon the picture, 
I can hear the clear-toned call 
Sounding forth to all the ages 
From the time of man's first fall 

'Tis the call to all life's heroes 
For a spirit brave and true, 
For a will that stands for purpose, 
And a heart to dare and do. 

Shall we heed the pictured message 
And resolve anew to fight 
In the cause of human freedom. 
In the stiniggle for the right.'' 

Or shall we worship goodness 
While we calmly stand and wait. 
Leaving the fight to heroes, 
And trusting that somehow fate 
[66] 



Shall bring us at last to the portal 
Where manhood stands supreme 
In the glory of achievement 
In the sunset's mellow gleam? 



[67] 



MOMENTS 

Life is formed of little moments, 
Some of them of golden hue, 
Some as bright as Summer's sunshine. 
Other some of wretched blue — 

Moments rife with pain or pleasure, 
Friendships strong or hatreds deep, 
Moments that are meant for laughter, 
God-appointed ones to weep. 

Shall we learn a lesson from these 
Little moments fleeting by ? 
Listen to the message given, 
*^ Act, then, act before you die." 



[68] 



TO MY FATHER ON HIS EIGHTIETH 
BIRTHDAY 

In the olden days when the poplar tall 
Raised its proud head to the azure blue, 
And caught in the wealth of its shining crown 
The priceless gems of the sparkling dew ; 

When the gnarled oak tree, sturdy and strong, 
Stood like a sentinel brave and bold, 
And flung out its arms to the Summer's wind. 
Nor trembled at all at the Winter's cold — 

There came to the woodlands, brawny and spare 
The bold pioneer on his " Westward ho 1 " 
And builded his cabin with courage rare. 
Near where the spring's tide murmured low. 

That was a task that could challenge men 
Filled with a purpose to dare and to do ; 
Winning a home from the forest wild. 
Carving it out for me and for you. 

Humble it was and lowly withal. 
But there abode faith and hope and love ; 
Welcome was stranger to share its store 
Garnered from earth and the sky above. 

Eighty long years I That is full fourscore ; 
Wonderful years crowded full to the brim 
With toil and achievement given for us 
Who gather this day to remember him. 

[69] 



From meager clearing to broad, fertile field ; 
From the lowly hut to the mansion fair; 
From sickle and scythe, with their mead of toil, 
To the matchless reaper's onward sweep. 
Is a forward stride in the world's great race 
That reads like a tale from a volume rare. 



[70] 



ON HEARING A SERMON 

From God's eternal hills above 
His matchless love descends, 
Warms into life our struggling faith 
And with our spirits blends. 

Though low on life's horizon 
Despair's dark clouds shall roll, 
The sunshine of His presence 
May lighten up the soul 

And put to flight the somber thoughts 
Which veil from us the view 
Of the radiance and the splendor 
In the good that we can do. 

Then to the everlasting hills afar 
Your weary soul uplift. 
And catch the gleam of sunshine 
That trembles at the rift 

For him whose look is upward 
To the sun-crowned hills above, 
Where life doth spring supernal 
From the Master's boundless love. 



[71] 



HOPE 

In the fair morn of life, 

Ere a cloud of deception 

Has darkened the sky of a future all bright, 

The day-star of hope 

In the heavens above us 

Brings joy on the beams of its soft, silver 

light— 

A light that to human hearts 
Burdened with sorrow, 
Bears the joy, the comfort 
And peace of the morrow. 



[72] 



EVENING 

Far up in the thin, blue air 
The crow now homeward flies ; 
While westward toward the setting sun, 
His daily course now almost run, 
The fleecy clouds, piled fold on fold. 
Are lighting up the skies. 

Out from each rugged peak 
That tips some golden mount, 
A gleam of pure silv'r-grey. 
Fit harbinger of closing day. 
Trembles a moment paramount. 
Then lightly drifts away. 

But long enough it rested there. 

Airy and light and gay. 

Flashing its rays of hope and cheer 

Into some life that was sad and drear. 

To steal through the lattice of her who wept 

And warm her sad heart with its cheerful ray. 



[73] 



CHILDHOOD'S CALL 

At eventide, when the sun is low 

And the skj is streaked by its afterglow, 

When the gentle dews begin to 'still 

Where the shadows lengthen beyond the hill. 

There comes to me through memory's aisle 

The artless prattle of a darling child. 

Like music it falls on the waiting ear 
With a cadence so sweet and a tone so clear 
That I answer back, " Come, come, my dear. 
To the father's arms as he waits you here " ; 
Then outward I reach for a little hand — 
But clasp it I know that I never can. 

And all the night long in the silence deep, 
As the hours glide by with majestic sweep. 
My heart is a-hungry, my eyelids weep. 
And my feet a-weary would climb the steep 
For a glimpse of my child whose sweet voice I 

hear 
As it drifts unto me from the shadows drear. 

But it may not be thus ; the years have fled ; 
The bow has been bent and the arrow sped 
On its outward course, and it comes no more 
With the flow of the tide to the nearby shore. 
So the years have departed and lie there dead. 
With the fragrance of youth-time long since fled. 

[74] 



DA VINCI AND THE PICTURE 

With brush in hand, Da Vinci 
Before the canvas sat, depressed; 
No ray of hght his mind illumed, 
His soul was sore distressed. 

In one transcendent moment 

The Lord of life vouchsafed his grace ; 

But anger 'gainst his friend swept o'er his soul 

And lost to him the sweet, inspiring face. 

Upon the canvas, cruel, harsh, 
A Judas flashed his hateful greed; 
The painter's soul had wrought the look 
That made his friend perform the deed. 

Hatred in Da Vinci's soul 
With love could not abide ; 
The cruel wrong he did his friend 
Had thrust the good aside. 

In vain the Master's face he sought, 
No more there came the beatific smile ; 
The evil he had done was unforgiven ; 
His soul was dark with bitter guile. 

Painters are we in pigments rich and rare 
Upon life's canvas, stained by many a flaw ; 
Our thoughts the brushes and our deeds the art. 
Censored ever by undeviating law. 

[76] 



THE WINTER WIND 

I MARVEL at the capers of the wind 

As it fiercely gathers round my window blind 

With its swish and whish and whwoo, 

With its uill and dare and do. 

Seeking every nook and cranny it may find. 

Now it moves with gentle measure down the 

street, 
Lightly scatters fairy snowflakes at my feet ; 
And once more I'm just a boy 
Filled with laughter and with joy, 
And my snowball whizzes on its journey fleet. 

Now it tarries by the forest and the stream 
In a sort of lazy, hazy, languorous dream, 
Bringing thoughts of summer days 
And of green and pleasant ways, 
With the brightness and the swiftness of a 
gleam. 

Once more it smites with fierceness at mv 

door; 
Like a giant in its fury doth it roar 
Till it makes the hedges quake, 
And the very earth to shake. 
And the shivers swift to shoot across my floor. 



[76] 



But with tropic heat my fire beats back the 

frost, 
Drives it quickly o'er the threshold where it 

crossed ; 
There it lies and pants awhile 
Like some willful, pouting child, 
Then is gathered by the Frost King and is lost. 

FIrom the darkness of the night there comes a 

wail 
Like the sad notes of a spirit, worn and pale 
With its vigils of the night 
And its longings for the light, 
Which trembles at the dawn yet does but fail. 

'Tis the wailing of the Frost King in the air. 

Seeking what he may devour that's bright and 
fair ; 

With a quick and stealthy tread 

From his kingdom hath he fled. 

And his footprints marked with death are every- 
where. 



[77] 



CHILDHOOD'S DAY 
A PARODY 

How dear to the heart are the brooks where we 

angled 
When springtime with flowers had brightened 

the land ; 
When gaily we hied over sweet-scented meadows 
To brooks on w^hose banks shone the pearly white 

sand. 
How large in our fancy those dear little min- 
nows 
When boyish endeavor had made them our prey, 
And, dancing on high, as our bended pins held 

them, 
They seemed little whales in our child's light of 

day — 
A day full of promise, so soon to glide from us 
When come riper years and hairs turning to 

gi'ay. 

A crown for those pleasures ! the dearest of 

treasures 
That gladden the heart of the man-aping boy ; 
Since cheer is a beacon with many a blessing, 
Oh, turn his young ills into unclouded joy! 
" He's nothing to bear," says a sturdy old 

father ; 
" His griefs are as nothing ; his spirit is gay. 
You've only to flog him and keep him a-going, 

[78] 



And he'll make a man in his own time and 

day."— 
A day full of promise, so soon to glide from us 
When come riper years and hairs turning to 

gray. 

Ah I manhood's estate brings us many a treasure 
To gladden the man-heart and lighten the care, 
And business pursuits full of infinite pleasure, 
With monied exchanges that glitter and glare: 
But back of them all is a green, sunny island 
Where Mother is queen and her subjects not 

men, 
Where ripples of laughter and sunshine are 

mingled. 
And small are the clouds on that day to our ken. 
A day full of promise, so soon to glide from us 
When come riper years and hairs turning to 

gray. 



[79] 



TO MY FRIEND, DR. E. N. CANADA 

I MET him in the Hall of Fame, 

And, anxious, sought his proper name. 

He quickly said, " You're in the game — 

Can-a-da." 

" It was not for your food I sought. 
Nor where you buy or what you bought." 
He answered, " You're a dandy naught — 
CanadaJ*^ 

I looked into his laughing eye 
And thought to have another try ; 
And this time swift he made reply, 
" Canada:' 

" What odds to me from whence you came ; 
I wish to know your proper name." 
Again he said, " You're rather tame — 
Cana-da:' 

" You must be mad or lame or sore 

To answer thus, and o'er and o'er." 

" I'll tell you, then," he said, " once more — 

Can-tt'-da:' 

" What shall I do or where shall go ? 
Your proper name I have to know." 
" I'm sure," he said, " you're very slow — 
Why, Canada, of course." 

[80] 



WHEN MARY HAS A MAN 

The skies take on a rosy hue, 
The nights distill a sweeter dew, 
The bluebirds don a brighter blue, 
When Mary has a man. 

The robin sings a gayer note. 
Old William is a better goat, 
And Sandy is a nicer shoat, 
When Mary has a man. 

The fireflies make a finer show, 
The cattle sound a fonder low, 
The cabbage seems to swifter grow, 
When Mary has a man. 

The daisies gently bend and nod, 
And happy is the goldenrod ; 
All nature seems a-praising God, 
When Mary has a man. 

When Mary has a man, ah, dear I 
It seems to clear the atmosphere; 
No longer are the moments drear. 
When Mary has a man. 

Will years roll on in grand attune. 
Will marriage prove a gladsome boon 
With every day a honeymoon, 
When Mary has a man? 

[81] 



SAMBO'S COURTING 

HuccuM you all done bain fum home 
^Vl^ain Sambo comes a-co'tin'? 
You all suah knows when Sa'day comes 
'Tis dain I goes a-spo'tin'. 

Now hones' fess an' doan digress, 
I'll naiver stan' no foolin' ; 
A knows a bit, ahm tellin' hit 
F'a naiver had no schoolin'. 

Shucks ! whut's de use, yuh li'l goose, 
A-trailin' wif yuh 'fections? 
Lay baiah yuh heart, le's make a start, 
An' latah talk of 'flections. 

No 'flections goes if Sambo knows 
Whut's in dis kinky noggin ; 
Dat ole black crow, he shorely know 
Yuh 'fections need a joggin'. 

Ma heart acts queah; say, cain't yuh heah? 
Ma soul am suah repinin'. 
Dain quit yuh kiddin' and do ma biddin', 
We all will soon be j'inin'. 

Den happy bells will fill de dells 
Upon dis ole plantashun ; 
We all will sing twell de sky shall ring 
Wif de happy jubilashun. 

[82] 



SHALL WE TRUST HIM? 

Shall we ever dare to trust Him as a child? 
Will we leave the lonely hillside bare and wild, 
And rally at His feet as He treads the busy 

street, 
And learn to smile on others as He smiled? 

Shall we go into the valley if there's need? 
Gladly lay aside the burden of our greed. 
And in His precious name heal the sick and halt 

and lame, 
Knowing always that the captive shall be freed? 

Shall we give the cup of water in His name? 
Will we hold our peace in silence if there's 

blame? 
Will we loyal be and true all the pilgrim j ourney 

through. 
Seeking not the luring thing that men call fame? 



[83] 



HER PARLOR DECORATIONS 

There were bouglis from the tall, stately maple, 
Brightest flowers of the grass-grown hill. 
With willows agleam from the slow-winding 

stream. 
And flags from the pond at the mill. 

Slender " lamb-tongues " but never a lambkin. 
Yellow " cow-slips " with nowhere a cow. 
And rare " kitten-breeches " all made without 

stitches — 
Will the fair ones please answer us how? 

Here the " Wandering-Jew," not by Eugene 

Sue, 
Clung close to the gilded wall ; 
While from mantel and stairway, in a mazy and 

rare way. 
Were palm trees both graceful and tall. 

Here a " pink " of perfection lent charm to a 
section 

Full crowded with trophies both common and 
rare; 

But " tulips " can't tell (and doubtless 'tis well) 

Of the grace and the charm that were every- 
where. 



[84] 



SIN'S TOLL 

A BROWN-HAIRED lad from his home went forth 
When the summer days were long; 
His hopes ran high, there was light in his eye, 
And purpose both steady and strong. 

Far, far from his father's roof roamed he. 
And a song was upon his lips ; 
And away went he from the billowy sea 
With its burden of mighty ships. 

Aye, forth went he with a thirst for the new, 
From the scenes of his early youth ; 
And in stranger land from hi§ own home-clan 
He forgot the sweet ways of truth. 

Then skies grew dark and the night let down 
And the glamour of summer fled ; 
His heart grew sore as he dreamed of the shore, 
And wondered if Mother were dead. 

He would forth from the land where the stranger 

dwelt 
And speed him away to the bounding sea ; 
From the sweet mother-face every care he would 

chase 
And he'd laugh and he'd shout in his happy glee. 



[85] 



But alack ! and alas ! on one fateful day 
When the Tempter was near and he knew it not, 
The fair name he bore in his home by the shore 
Was blackened and smirched by an awful blot. 

Like many another who bravely fled 
From the scenes of Duty's clear, sweet call. 
He had found a bitter Gethsemane 
To mark the sad scene of his early fall. 

After all, in the cup with its bitter dregs 
A potion with healing balm shall be ; 
And out of the sickness of sin, perchance, 
A better life shall the laddie see. 

The Father above in His matchless love 
Guardeth us well all the j ourney through ; 
He giveth us cheer when skies are drear 
And sends us the rain and the sparkling dew. 



[86] 



RURAL OPTIMIST 

" Land o' Goshen 1 'Liza, 
Cohn's a-lookin' fine; 
Taters, too, 's a-buggin'. 
Ever' thing's in line. 

" 'Pears like all creation's 
Humpin' of herself, 
Stockin' of the pantry, 
Loadin' of the shelf. 

" Nearly half the county's 
Ownin' of a Ford, 
Goin' to meetin' Sundays 
Fer to praise the Lord. 

" Walkin's kind o' lonesome 
Sorter common, too ; 
Soon we'll be a-flyin' 
All the journey through." 



[87] 



TWILIGHT AND DAWN 

Lo ! appears the purple light, 
Day is fading into night ; 
Soon the stars will twinkle bright 
In the blue above. 
Little birds within the nest 
Feel the loving mother-breast 
Ere they snuggle down to rest, 
Watched by mother love. 

Softly on the summer breeze 
Come the voices of the trees. 
Lulling us to quiet ease. 
When the day is done. 
Over us the splendor falls 
From the night's enchanted halls, 
Trembles on our palace walls 
When the night has won. 

Later comes the quiet hush. 
Ere the morning's rosy flush 
Wakes anew the singing thrush, 
Harbinger of day. 
There beyond the paling moon. 
Waiting to be ushered soon. 
Halts a perfect day of June, 
Ready by the way. 



[88] 



ON THE EVE OF COMMENCEMENT 

I NOTICED you this morning, Jennie, 
Looking off with saddened eye 
To the distant woods, slow waving. 
Seeing not the things 'twere nigh. 

And I wondered, as I watched you, 
If the future's glowing page 
Did not picture scenes before you 
Not unworthy of the sage. 

For the time is fast approaching 
When the golden tinted ray 
Of the friendly hope that binds us 
Shall be merged in that great day. 

We grow wise most by the measure 
Of the time that we employ, 
But it is the event fashions 
What shall be our future joy. 



[89] 



CLASS POEM, 1880 
I 

'Twill be a rare pleasure, some day when re- 
calling 

The days spent in college, Old Alma, the blest, 

When low on the mountains the shadows are 
creeping 

And soft winds are sighing where purples the 
West, 

To know in the valley, where Brown leaves are 

falling. 
Miles away from thy portals, O college most 

dear. 
Though down to but Nichols our fortune has 

drifted. 
There is hope for us yet in thy love and good 

cheer. 

With Lucas for captain, A. Leachman for pilot, 
Our gallant ship, Class, shall sail o'er life's 

main ; 
And when at the portal at last we shall anchor, 
From the shore may we hear, " They have lived 

not in vain." 

Our Wagner may write and compose a sweet 

sonnet ; 
Our Erie may sing with the lark at the morn ; 

[90] 



" The Five " without swords may win in fair 

battle ; 
But Willis shall startle us all with the horn. 

In prose composition dear Lina shall lead us ; 
In logic Ahe Halleck shall startle the world; 
While Emily Levina, a classical mourner, 
Shall wave in the heavens our banner unfurled. 

II 

Great George! would you know it, the secret is 

coming, 
And duty demands that with Fate we shall cope ; 
And Smith of our fortunes, we'll strip for the 

battle. 
Pausing not in the fray till secure is " Our 

Hope." 



[91] 



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